


Of All The Stars

by afewmistakesago



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But mostly angst, Celebrities, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-10 23:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4411448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afewmistakesago/pseuds/afewmistakesago
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle French's acting career has fallen flat, and she's elated when she lands a role in a highly-anticipated movie. She couldn't be more excited to begin filming, until she learns her co-star is Ehran Gold. Known for his playboy nature and brilliant acting, Belle's hesitant to befriend him. Despite both of their highly publicized lives, they may find they can only truly be themselves when they're together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

          Her ideal Tuesday night did not involve being in downtown Hollywood at a red carpet event, but it was part of her job. The lights were too bright, and she felt like the makeup on her face was melting. Her makeup artist, Jefferson, had insisted that the glittery eyeshadow and dramatic red lipstick were in fashion, but Belle wasn’t convinced. Still, her publicist had pushed her out the door before she could protest. He had done a good job making her cheekbones look sharper than they actually were, and at least she adored the dress she was currently wearing. Her delicate jewelry was heavy on her bare neck, but it matched the eyeshadow. Belle’s style was known for being modest yet daring, and the dress for this premiere was a short little green number with cut-outs on the side. Her dark hair had been braided into a crown around her head which took almost an hour for a patient hairstylist to complete.

           As she tilted her weight from side to side and smiled at the various paparazzi, her mind drifted to other things. Belle had just landed the lead role of the much-anticipated movie adaptation of a best-selling book, “Eloquence”, and the cameras would begin rolling in a month. She hadn’t checked to see who else she’d be working with, but she knew Mulan Yang had been cast as Belle’s character’s best friend. Mulan had worked with her in one of her failed pilots, and Belle was happy to already have a friend. There hadn’t been any word on who was playing the male lead, but she was praying it was an unknown actor. Established male actors had a tendency to be rude, in her experience.

           Not everyone fit that stereotype, she remembered, smiling as her friend David Nolan walked behind her to the reporter’s corner. Continuing her walk down the red carpet, she saw her publicist, Mary Margaret, smile at David. The two of them were a Hollywood fairytale – Mary Margaret had been David’s publicist until they’d fallen in love and gotten married. Not wanting to confuse work and feelings, David hired a new publicist and Mary Margaret took Belle under her wing. After several different poses and pouts, Belle was done with the flashing cameras. She was praying that the spray tan and waxing she had endured were working for her and that she looked as good as she had felt in her pre-carpet portrait. Doing events like this gave her a headache, but Belle couldn’t deny her love for the sparkle and glamour of it all. Luckily, she wouldn’t have to do press after this. She wasn’t starring in the movie - it was some comedy movie named Corruption Street with an all-star cast. Belle was excited to see it, actually, because a few old co-workers were in it.

           Directly after leaving the carpet, Mary Margaret handed her two ibuprofen and a bottle of water. “You’re doing great, kid,” said Mary Margaret with a small smile, glancing at her iPhone. Belle loved that Mary Margaret acted like she was much older and wiser than her, but she was really only a few years older than her. The film industry could age people, though. “You need to get back on the carpet; they want you to do photos with your co-star for Eloquence,” said Mary Margaret, stopping Belle from heading into the busy theater.

           Belle frowned, and before she could ask who it was, several uniformed workers had ushered her back onto the carpet and Mary Margaret had her water bottle. The reporters began their calls for her to smile, and she obliged, turning her head and tilting her chin up, giving her signature half-smile, half-smirk. They loved it, and Belle loved having a new photo for her Twitter profile. Suddenly, a cold hand was around her waist, just hovering at her exposed skin. Belle subtly looked up at the man who would be her co-star. She recognized him immediately. He was dressed in a charcoal gray suit, almost identical to every other male on the carpet. His long dark hair was graying, and he hadn’t shaved in a while. He also smelled distinctly of alcohol.

           And, he definitely wasn’t an unknown. The fans occupying the carpet’s outer edges had doubled in their screaming, indicating their passionate love for him. Ehran Gold was an acclaimed actor, for both his work and his personal life. Ehran hadn’t looked down at her yet, giving the cameras all his charm. Despite her towering heels, he was still a good bit taller than her. She smiled up at him, whispering so that the cameras couldn’t catch her words.

           “You’re in Eloquence?” she said, turning to smile up at him, pressing her hand to his chest. It was a classic couple promotional shot, and the photographers were eating it up.

           He glanced down at her, as if he was sizing her up. “Yeah, dear, otherwise I wouldn’t be next to you,” he said quietly, the sarcasm not hard to detect. Belle had forgotten he was Scottish, so she almost jumped at the mumbled words. On the last few shows she’d watched him in, he’d played Americans. The male lead in Eloquence was British, but she had no doubt he could pull of the accent and cause women all over the world to swoon.

           Belle was tempted to roll her eyes, but switched to be on his other side.

           “I photograph better on the right,” she whispered.

           “I don’t care,” he said, giving her an odd look and walking down the carpet with his arm still around her. When they finally reached the end, Belle didn’t see Mary Margaret immediately and looked at Ehran, who was looking around at the movie festivities with a bored expression. She noticed Ehran beginning to sway, and she grabbed his arm to steady him.

           “Are you drunk?” she whispered, not hiding the disgust in her voice.

           “Drunk,” he said, sounding amused.

           “Yes, you’re acting quite drunk,” said Belle, matter-of-factly.

           “Darling, anyone who tolerates this,” he said, waving his arm at the red carpet, “should come at least a little buzzed.”

           Belle shook her head, and before she could spit out a reply, Mary Margaret and a woman she didn’t recognize were at their sides.

           “Glad to see we’re all making friends,” said the stranger with a wide smile. She offered her hand to Belle. “Regina Mills. I’m Ehran’s manager, and I was just speaking to Mary Margaret about getting your schedules worked out for the new movie.”

           Belle nodded meekly, still staring at Ehran, who was now whistling casually as if they weren’t at one of the most anticipated celebrity events of the year.

           Regina whispered something to Ehran, who nodded. “We’re out of here, ladies,” said Regina, guiding Ehran to the celebrity exit. “See you next week!”

           After they’d disappeared, Belle turned to Mary Margaret.  “Next week?”

           Mary Margaret rolled her eyes. “Next week is the Teen Choice Awards. You’re both going.”

           “The Teen Choice Awards? I haven’t done any teenage movies in years,” said Belle, frowning. She hadn’t gone to an award show like that in ages, and her last teenager-aimed series had ended years ago. After several commercials as a child, she’d landed a recurring role on a popular Australian sitcom. When it ended, she’d moved from Australia to the United States, and starred in a supernatural series called “Planet Z” where she played a young teenage witch. Looking back, it had some cheesy scenes, but it had solidified Belle’s career. Post-Planet-Z, after a small break from acting, Belle had starred in several independent movies that had done well. She’d earned some accolades, and Belle felt like nothing would bring her down. Until the movie offers stopped coming in, newer starlets taking her place. Her last movie was three years ago, and since then, the only things on Belle’s resume were a few failed television pilots. “Eloquence” was supposed to help kickstart her currently dormant career.

           “You have to get your name out there again,” said Mary Margaret. “C’mon, let’s go inside.” The publicist began to walk towards the theater, but Belle shook her head. “I want to go home.” She needed to process meeting her new co-star, and the migraine she’d been fighting was winning against her.

           Mary Margaret sighed, and then called for the car.

           Arriving to her home, Belle slipped in, waving at her night security guard. Leroy was friendly enough, but Belle still felt odd about having security. Still, after one person had attempted to climb her fence, it was easier to sleep knowing someone was watching out for her.

           She carefully deconstructed her hair and makeup, staring at her bare face in the mirror. She smirked. If her fans could see her like this, they might not tweet her “queen” and “slay” as often as they did. Climbing into her large bathtub, she let calming essential oils diffuse and bubble bath nearly spill over the corners. She deserved to relax after finding out that her costar was a drunk and a jerk.

           Belle had gotten a waterproof case on her phone purely to use it in the bath, contrary to people who assumed she got it for going to the beach. She reached for it, clicking Twitter. She was fairly popular on there, and tended to be active with her fans. Her mentions were going crazy from the premiere, and it was filled with photos of her on the red carpet. She retweeted a few from official magazine’s accounts, and looked at her follower count. It was dangerously close to 3 million.

           She typed out a new tweet. **“@belle_french** : When I get to 3M followers, expect an #AskBelle xx"                       

           Although she had that many followers, she only followed around a hundred people. Following fans could get messy, and she didn’t want anyone to feel left out. A new verified follower popped up, and Twitter suggested she follow them back. Ehran Gold. She bit her lip, unsure if she wanted to follow him back. His tweets weren’t original, and from her quick scroll through his profile, they were just infrequent and promotional. An intern probably wrote them for him.Thinking back to her mentions, which were filled with photos of them together, she followed him back.

           With that done, Belle googled Ehran Gold. His Wikipedia page was filled with facts Belle didn’t know about him. Born in Glasgow to poor parents, he had starred in multiple school productions before being scouted by a talent agent and moving to New York City. He had studied at several well-known schools, and his acting was really top-notch, Belle couldn’t deny it. She also couldn’t deny that his “personal life” section was larger than her entire biography. She skimmed for important things – he had changed his name, which was originally Eghan Nairi Goldstenner. He had several well known girlfriends, even briefly marrying Milah Right, a London-based girl band member. They had one child named Baelfire, who didn’t have his own page. Belle briefly wondered if she would meet him. Double-checking Ehran’s birthday, he was ten years older than her. They had almost the same birthday, which was funny to her.

           Before she could look at his vast amount of credited roles, Mary Margaret’s contact photo lit up her screen.“Hello,” said Belle, and before she could say anymore, Mary Margaret was on a roll. “I’ve got you tomorrow at the masseuse, and then at lunch with the Eloquence writers. They’re gluten-free and dairy-free, remember that. After that, you’re booked for that promotional photo shoot for your perfume. Then, you’re doing a phone interview for People magazine. You’re free after that for dinner and a night off. Do you need anything after that?”

           Belle groaned. “Yeah, another massage.”

           Mary Margaret laughed. “All in a day’s work, my darling. What are you doing right now?”

           Belle was quiet for a moment, and Mary Margaret caught on. “Don’t tell me you’re on your phone in the bathtub again.”

           Belle was silent, and Mary Margaret sighed. “Well, we all have hobbies, I guess.”

           “Right you are, boss. I’ll let you get to your husband and you can let me read in peace.”

           “You and your books,” said Mary Margaret. “David’s not home from the premiere yet, but maybe I’ll stay up to wait for him…”

           Belle remembered seeing David there. “Sorry I made you leave early. Ehran gave me a migraine.”

           “Get used to that migraine for the next six months,” Mary Margaret said in a sing-song voice.

           “Are you sure they can’t drop him?”

           “Searches for the movie have spiked five hundred percent since he was announced as the lead role today. He’s staying.”

           Belle rolled her eyes. “Well, then. I’ll adjust. Goodnight, double M.”

           “Goodnight, double L Belle.”

           After that conversation, Belle felt ready to sleep. It was tempting to open up her Kindle app, but tomorrow would be a long day. It wasn’t that she had any regrets about her choice of profession. It was a lovely life she lived, really, and full schedules with tedious activities were a small price to pay for getting to do what she did for a living. Ever since she was a little girl, she knew she wanted to make people feel things through her acting. It was a never-ending thrill, as long as she found her rhythm and became her character. After draining the bathtub and putting on her favorite pajamas, she entered her room, finding her little orange tabby cat was already asleep on her bed.

           “Freckles!” she exclaimed, climbing under the covers. Her cat sat at the end of the bed, opening its eyes at her disruption of his peace. He looked entirely unimpressed with her. It was a photo opportunity too good to pass up. Belle reached for her phone, snapping a photo of her grumpy little one.

           “ **@belle_french** : hanging with freckles after the corruption street premiere. Goodnight, frenchies<3,” she tweeted, affectionately using the name her fans proudly used in their tweets to her. Attaching the photo of Freckles, the tweet was sent.

           With one last look at her verified mentions, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes when she saw Ehran Gold’s tweet that mentioned her.

           “ **@egold** : So excited to be working with the beautiful **@belle_french** soon,” read the tweet, with a photo of them smiling at each other on the carpet. Belle didn’t recall either of them smiling at each other so fondly, but then again, they were actors. They looked nice together; Belle had to admit to herself. Whatever. She retweeted the photo, and then shut her phone off for the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a morning at the gym, Belle, Ruby, and Emma talk about boys. Ehran Gold is in a less than pleasant mood when he’s unexpectedly asked to present an award with Belle, and he lets his temper get the best of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a longer chapter than I expected, because someone (read: Gold) had a lot to say. Bumping this up to a teen rating for language and implied situations.

            Her playlist was hitting her favorite song as the treadmill beeped, letting Belle know it was time to cool down. Right as Steven Tyler howled to “Dream On”, the only thing she was dreaming of was a break. Belle was breathing heavily; the “Mountain Jog” setting was kicking her into shape after a brief break from her normal workout regime. Her legs burned as she offered a silent prayer of thanks for the slow-down of the machine, but she would’ve been more thankful if her trainer didn’t walk into the room with a grin on her face. Emma Swan was Belle’s personal nutritionist and trainer, and she had a special fondness for pushing Belle to her physical fitness limits (and keeping her away from sweets). The Teen Choice Awards were in two days, and filming for the movie began a few weeks from then, so Belle wanted to be at her physical best. Emma also had the annoying habit of constantly looking flawless, whereas Belle was sure she looked like a sweaty mess whenever she saw Emma.

           “Good job, Belle,” said Emma, checking the treadmills’ statistics with the paper on her clipboard. “You don’t look nearly as red as you did last time!”

           Belle glared. Emma laughed, and then said, “C’mon. Once you’re done, it’ll be 50 push-ups, then you’re free to go to the pool.”

           When the treadmill reached its complete stop, Belle stepped off, her legs feeling similar to Jell-O. Emma was waiting expectantly by a gym mat, and Belle got into push-up position, but failed to start the task. Emma squatted down, giving Belle a sympathetic look. “I’ll do them with you. We can do it together.”

           “Yeah, but you do this for a living,” Belle said, “it’s not the same.”

           Emma rolled her eyes. “Let’s go, French.”

           They began to do the push-ups, Emma reminding Belle to breathe and stay in the correct formation as they both executed the task, Emma slowing herself down to finish at the same time as Belle.  When they hit 50, Belle stood up, eager to head to the pool, and she gave Emma a thoughtful look. “You know, I really hate you when I’m paying you to make me exercise.”

           “Right, but you love me when I’m off the clock,” Emma reminded her. And it was true, after Belle’s training sessions, they were friends. Belle showered quickly before changing into a bikini and joining her waiting friends at the gym’s outdoor pool. It was a quiet haven for celebrities in the Los Angeles area, with enough security at the doors to ensure nobody who wanted to cause a fuss could get in. Belle’s friend Ruby Lucas waved her over, and she took the lounge chair in-between her and Emma. Ruby had starred in an “Office” style sitcom, and had just begun filming a show with the Travel channel where she went to 5-Star Hotels and reviewed them. It was an awesome job, and Belle was not even secretly jealous, in fact, she was very openly jealous _._ Emma offered her a fruit smoothie of some kind for her post-workout snack, and she accepted it. As she stretched out on the chair, she slipped on her sunglasses, ready to think about nothing for an hour or so. Ruby didn’t seem to have that same idea.

           “Are you excited to work with _Ehran Gold_ ,” Ruby said, her voice lowering as she said Belle’s co-worker’s name. Belle turned to her friend, a frown on her face. She was trying not to think about him, not having interacted with him since that movie premiere and the tweet afterwards.

           “No,” she said, “I met him once and it was quite unpleasant.” Belle opened her book, hoping Ruby would drop the subject. She wouldn’t.

           “I went to a party at his house once. It was freaking insane – Belle, you have to see his basement. It’s got a bowling alley,” Ruby said.

           “I hope I never go to his house,” Belle said firmly.

           Emma piped in. “You should give this guy a try, Belle. I mean, you have to look at his face either way. And it’s not an ugly face,” she said, giving a sly smile.

           Ruby and Belle both agreed, and Belle sighed. “I have to go to the Teen Choice Awards in a couple days, and I looked at the list of attendees. I don’t know any of the performers, and I don’t recognize half the actors’ names. I’m officially out of teen culture.”

           Nearing thirty, Belle didn’t find herself watching as many shows on MTV or ABC like she used to.  It was true that actors her age played down as high-schoolers, but as she got older, that idea of watching the shows herself got weirder. It would be culture shock to see what was going on with the youths.

           Emma frowned. “Why are you even going?”

           “Mary Margaret wants me to get my name out there more, and,” she said, lowering her voice, “Ehran and I are going together. Movie promo and whatnot.”

           An overly-tan blonde girl Belle didn’t recognize stopped in her tracks, turning to look at Belle. “Did you say you’re going somewhere with _the_ Ehran Gold?”

           Belle nodded, and the girl looked wistful. “I wish I was you. I’ve heard he’s really good, if you know what I mean,” she said, winking before she walked off.

           Ruby began to crack up, and Belle sighed. Her distaste for that comment was evident. Emma shrugged. “Just relax. He’s probably not as bad as you think.And I think that was the last Sports Illustrated swimsuit model cover, by the way.”

           “We’ll see,” said Belle, doubting she’d grow fonder of him anytime soon. She realized she probably wouldn’t get any reading done with these two beside her, so she folded the page of her book and set it down. Belle turned over onto her stomach, closing her eyes and drifting in and out of something like sleep. Emma and Ruby were having a conversation around her, something about someone Ruby had met at her last shoot for her travel show. Eventually, Belle turned over, pulling her phone out of her gym bag.

           A text from Mary Margaret reminded her of her and her friends’ lunch reservations, and she saw the time, realizing she’d have to get moving if they didn’t want to show up in bikinis to the sushi hot-spot.

           “Guys, we have to move if we want to go to the restaurant on time,” said Belle, rising from her chair. “But first…”

           She extended her arm, catching both of her friend’s attention as she flipped the iPhone’s camera to face them. Snapping a few selfies with them, she put a filter on her favorite, posting it on Instagram and sharing it to Twitter.

           “@ **belle_french** : sunnies & sun with my favorite girls by the pool **@rubylucas** **@swanfitness** ”

As her friends gathered their things, she motioned for Killian Jones to come over from the wall he was occupying. He was her daytime security, a measure brought on for the same reason as the night security at her home. Some people didn’t have any boundaries and it made her feel a bit better when she was walking the streets to have him a few steps in front of her.

“Ready to go, Ms. French?” he asked, and Belle wondered how he was surviving in his all-black outfit.

She nodded. “We’re going to change, can you pull the car around?”

“Of course. Are Ms. Lucas and Ms. Swan joining us on the ride there?”

She turned to her friends, and Ruby confirmed she would ride with them. Emma suddenly seemed to be blushing, avoiding eye contact with Killian as she said, “If you don’t mind.” Killian nodded easily, walking towards the exit of the gym. Belle nudged Emma on the shoulder. “What was that about? You’re normally the ice queen.”

Emma frowned. “I don’t like that nickname, and it’s nothing,” she said, heading towards the changing rooms. Ruby and Belle exchanged glances. Did Emma have a crush on Belle’s security guard? Granted, he was very handsome and he had an accent, so she could see the appeal. It was just hard to picture kick-ass Emma getting nervous around a guy. “Let’s just see where this goes,” said Belle after a moment of silence, and Ruby agreed. They went into their separate changing rooms, putting on sundresses and sandals for their casual lunch.

Belle whistled when she saw Emma in her white t-shirt dress and black leggings. It was arguably the sexiest thing she’d ever seen her in, because when she thought of Emma’s wardrobe, she thought sports bra and running shorts. Her thick blonde hair was hanging loosely around her shoulders, and she looked at Belle nervously. “I look alright?” she asked, seeking confirmation.

“You look fantastic,” Belle agreed, and Ruby had appeared and seconded the statement. Belle took her friend’s hands, leaving the gym and climbing into the back of the waiting vehicle. Ruby and Belle conveniently took the back seat, so Emma was in the passenger’s side next to Killian, who sometimes doubled as Belle’s driver.

“Killian,” Belle called to the front of the car.

“Ms. French?” he replied, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Do you _ever_ take off those sunglasses? And please call me Belle?”

“No, Ms. French. Yes, Belle,” he replied drily. Killian tended to be very sarcastic, but he and Belle could always have a good conversation.

Ruby reached for Belle’s unlocked phone, swiping it from her lap. When Belle reached for it back, Ruby turned. “I just want to see the Instagram picture, my phone won’t load it.”

“Let me see it, too,” said Emma, turning to look at them. Ruby was taking longer than she should. She was frowning at something. “What? Is it a bad picture?” said Emma, just out of reach from the phone.

“No, it’s just… Belle, why do you still have this photo?” Ruby turned the screen to face Belle, with Emma catching a glimpse as well. It was the oldest photo on her phone, the only one that had survived upgrades and plan changes. It depicted a beautiful sunset, the Eiffel Tower… and Belle and her ex-boyfriend. Will Scarlett was Belle’s first boyfriend as a “celebrity”, a professional footballer from London. They’d met at the ESPYs when Belle was a presenter, quickly taking a liking to each other. It got pretty serious, until Will had been traded to a team in Chicago. They tried to work it out long distance, but mutually agreed it wasn’t working. Since they parted on good terms, they still followed each other on social media and Belle had met his new girlfriend, a sweet girl named Ana, when they visited Los Angeles for something. It wasn’t that Belle was still hung up on Will – it had nearly been two years, but the picture still made something in her twinge. The forever feeling of “almost” seemed to linger in that photo. They had almost worked. But they hadn’t, and Belle had kept it because the sunset was like a professional water-color painting and it was the only time she’d been to France.

“Because it’s my phone,” said Belle, finally swiping the phone from Ruby’s hand. “And I can save pictures if I want to. I don’t _like_ Will anymore.”

Ruby shrugged. “Just seems weird.”

“Like you haven’t deleted that photo of you and Victor from the Grammys,” said Belle. Ruby had dated Victor, front man of the Later Gators, for almost six years before breaking up.

“Because it was the _Grammys_ ,” said Ruby, “that’s different. It’s not a photo of a romantic vacation.”

“I think Belle should be allowed to keep that photo. It has sentimental value,” said Emma. Blessed, sweet, Emma. “I’m surprised Garrett let you keep that, though.”

Belle’s eyes immediately rolled upon hearing his name. Garrett Gastonne was an idiot who happened to be her rebound after Will. He was a male model that she’d met when she’d been cast as the lead actress in a music video, starring opposite her. It lasted a few months, and they were constantly photographed together, nicknamed Garelle and gracing several magazine covers. That just went to show how boring celebrity news had been - Belle hadn’t been in a movie in a while, but her infrequent cameos in television shows made sure her name didn’t completely lose it’s status. The relationship was high profile, and he became more high maintenance as they went on. Even if Belle didn’t intend to marry him, it wasn’t a pleasant surprise to find him on her couch with a female she vaguely recognized from a commercial. He’d been kindly evicted from her apartment, his boxes of clothing scattering her lawn. It wasn’t her best move, but hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

“Don’t talk about him,” said Belle, feeling like she’d get nauseous if she had to remember her whirlwind of mistakes with him.

Emma came up with an idea. Slowly, she said, “What if talking about boys is off-limits for today’s lunch?” Belle could’ve sworn she saw Killian smirk as they all agreed. The trio was soon at lunch, and Belle almost forgot about Ehran Gold’s imminent return into her life. Almost.

\---

           The Teen Choice Awards were a joke. Nobody here could be taken seriously. The colors were too bright, the people too happy. The fans next to the sham of a red-carpet were too loud. Ehran had begged Regina to let him out of it, but she was unrelenting. He didn’t need the press, he was smart enough to know that. It was her fault – Belle French. Belle French was the one who needed to show up, get her name written in articles, needed to hang off his arm to get people to notice her after the draught in her own career. That wasn’t his fault. So, he’d arrived, taking it like the joke it was.  

           Belle French wasn’t the least bit happy with him, he knew. When they’d met up on the carpet to pose for photos, she smiled up at him, her lips barely moving as she asked, “Are you drunk again? And are you really wearing jeans?”

           “It’s not a real awards show, my dear. I can wear what I want.”

           “You’re not even trying,” she hissed.

           “You don’t have to try when you’ve been named People’s Sexiest Man of the Year twice,” Ehran said. He didn’t bring up that fact to brag – except he did. He wanted her to know exactly who held the power.

           “I don’t give a damn about your awards,” she mumbled.

           He had to admit, she had guts, this Belle French. She had the kind of name that demanded to be pronounced fully, he thought, not that he would speak her name unless he had too. He’d done his research, he knew who she was. She seemed sweet enough, but her ego from an overrated kid’s show had ruined her. He’d loved her in one of her indie flicks, actually, but he couldn’t remember why as he smiled down at her. Even with her heels, she was a tiny little bit of a woman. And yes, he had worn jeans, because this wasn’t anything anyone important would be watching.

           “Maybe a little,” he replied truthfully. He’d knocked down a few shots on the limo over here. To sit a show directed at teenagers required it. It had been a long time since he fit the target audience for this particular awards show. She rolled her eyes slightly, shifting her weight and stepping on Ehran’s shoes in her ridiculously glittery stiletto shoes.

           “Watch out,” Ehran said, taking in her outfit as he moved to get out of her way. “Are you trying to blind me?” he whispered. She was wearing some kind of one piece – a romper, that’s what they’re called. A long-sleeved romper in a fluorescent shade of pink, with her long brown hair falling down her back. She was beautiful, in every regard, but they’d really gotten off on the wrong foot now.

           She whispered back, “what do you mean?”

           “That color. I almost need sunglasses.”

           “It brings out my tan and my eyes,” she said through her teeth, turning to give the photographers her other side. The Australian accent was delightfully attractive.

           “It brings out my headache,” he replied back with a small smirk.

           “You’ve already given me a headache, the moment you started talking.” She had teeth, Belle French, and she wasn’t afraid to bite. He put his arm around her waist, letting the photographers yell at him to smile at different angles. He had perfected his style over the years, charming and inviting. After a few minutes, he was ready to go home and get properly wasted. There was no need for him to bloody stay. Ehran was fully ready to fire Regina on the spot when she informed him why he couldn’t leave.

           “They want us to present a bloody award?” he asked, staring at her incredulously. A glance over at Belle talking to a petite woman with a pixie cut indicated she wasn’t pleased either.

           Regina nodded. “Yes, some child actor just went to rehab and they needed two presenters. They’re writing your lines now. It’ll be quick.”

           “Quick, as in we present the first award and I can leave?”

           No. No, of course not. It was one of the last awards, and he had to sit for the whole show with Belle French seething next to him. The “Eloquence” writers had phoned him to make sure he would stick through sitting until they had presented. It would be their first time next to each other in front of all of America (or rather, the teens of America and their bored parents), and it had to be brilliant. If it wasn’t… he didn’t know what they’d do. Filming was too soon to fire either of them. He was fantastically excited when the lead role had been offered to him – the chance to play a crazed murderer was too fun to pass up. If only the murderer wasn’t in love with Belle French’s character. He had almost zoned out completely as a band called Hey Crystal played their new “smash”. It sounded like auto-tuned trash to him, but Belle was tapping her foot along to the music.

           “Is this the awards show where they slime people?” he asked, leaning in to hear her response.

           “No, that’s the Kid’s Choice Awards, I think,” she replied, turning back to look at the stage with a sigh.

           He vaguely remembered watching an awards show with his son where people had green slime thrown at them. It was a miracle Regina hadn’t figured out a way to get him there yet. During a commercial break, he exchanged numbers with one of the only actresses there who seemed to be moderately in his age range. She’d practically begged for him to promise her a ride home, but desperation hadn’t been doing it for him lately. Instead, he dropped the note wher number on the floor. He could’ve sworn he heard Belle laugh at that, but maybe the host had actually said something intelligent.

            He had almost completely forgotten that he was presenting when a stagehand got him and Belle from their seats. Belle was smiling graciously at everyone, oozing fake happiness. Ehran kept a straight face, oozing cool charisma. The stage help might smile back at Belle, but they were watching him with wonder. A bloody living legend, he was.

           Finally, finally, they were on stage and lines were on a projector in front of them. Ehran blinked, the stage lights were too bright. It appeared Belle had the first line, and the crowd laughed as they waited for her to fix the microphone to her level.

           “I’m Belle French,” she said, introducing herself. “I’m Ehran Gold,” he said, though he doubted the people in the audience had ever watched his movies.

           “When Belle was fourteen, she played a teen witch named Miranda,” said Ehran, reading the script with a forced smile.

           “I’m not that Miranda anymore, but soon I’ll be playing another Miranda in Eloquence. This Miranda is in love with this guy,” she said, pointing at Ehran with a cheesy grin. Someone in the audience hollered. Maybe they had seen his movies.

           “We’re here to present for Best Young Actress in a Comedy,” said Ehran.

           “The nominees are,” Belle finished, letting the clip roll above them. The stagehand handed her an envelope, and she opened it. “Jewel Monroe,” she yelled, looking elated.

           A young blonde girl was soon onstage, hugging Belle before taking the award. They were ridiculously shaped like surfboards. She gave a brief speech, which he didn’t listen to – he was trying to figure out where he recognized her from. Jewel was clinging to Belle as they walked together to the backstage area.

           He was watching them with some interest, as Belle ran her fingers through the girls’ hair, whispering excitedly about how long it had gotten. It suddenly hit him – Jewel Monroe was Belle’s younger sister in that indie flick – what had it been called? His mind seemed to be moving too slowly. Maybe he’d had too much to drink. Nothing was as sobering as watching two hours of teenage television clips, however. Independence Bay, _that’s_ what it had been called.

           “I loved you in Independence Bay,” he said to Jewel. Both girls stopped their gushing, and Jewel blushed. “Thank you,” she said, giving him a shy look. “Seriously, it’s rare to find child actors who genuinely make you feel something. You were brilliant,” he said, nodding. Belle was staring at him like she couldn’t figure it out, whereas Jewel was now grinning.

           “Can we take a photo together, Mr. Gold?” she said, pulling a phone out of a pocket he didn’t know she had in her dress.

           “Of course,” he said, putting an arm around her and smiling as Belle reluctantly took the phone and snapped the photo. “And it’s Ehran.”

           “Okay, Ehran,” she said. Her mother emerged from watching it all with a star struck gaze, shaking Ehran and Belle’s hands and telling them how excited she was for Eloquence. They thanked her, and she ushered Jewel back to the main stage. Ehran and Belle were looking at each other.

           “I think I’m leaving,” he said, and he began to walk away. He noticed she was glaring at him, and he turned to stare back at her. “Something wrong, Belle French?”

           Damn it, he had full-named her out loud instead of mentally.

           She rolled her eyes. “I loved you in Independence Bay. Seriously,” she said, mocking his Scottish accent horribly.

           “My dear, are you upset I didn’t compliment you as well? You were damn near fantastic in it, as well. And you were blonde.”

           She looked like she didn’t know where to begin with a response, so he kept going. “I think I like you better blonde. I might ask if Miranda can be blonde.” Oh, she was getting red. He looked around quickly, but all the stagehands were busy doing whatever it was that keep teenage award shows running.

           “Don’t speak to me, Ehran Gold,” she spat. “You don’t know anything – anything about me.”

           She was pushing his patience now. He stepped closer to her, almost touching. He could nearly see her heart jumping out of her chest. Ehran was pushing her out of her comfort zone, testing her limits. He leaned down, speaking almost directly into her ear. She was perfectly still when he began.

           “You’re allergic to peanuts. Your last boyfriend cheated on you, and it’s made you so insecure that you haven’t dated anyone since. You prefer to read paperback books. A year ago, you hired a security team after someone climbed your fence and claimed they were married to you. You told reporters you took that time off after your little show ended to “find yourself”, but it was really because your father was horribly sick and you wanted to be there as he died,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. He moved to stare at her directly.

           Her lip was wobbling, and she looked ready to kill him, or cry, or do one then the other. “How do you know those things?” she asked quietly, fire behind her eyes.

           “Anyone can read between the lines. I’m going to be the one with secrets in this relationship, sweetheart,” he said, brushing her shoulder as he walked away.

           Regina had the car waiting for him. He vaguely wondered if he should be proud of himself. He didn’t feel any better, not like he had expected too.  He opened up his phone, hesitantly clicking Twitter. Regina normally tweeted for him, but he kind of knew how it worked. He wasn’t an idiot. Ehran’s verified mentions were buzzing with photos of him at the TCA’s.  He smiled at Jewel’s tweet to him, clicking the retweet option.

            **“@jewelmonroe** : Such an honor to meet this legendary actor at the #TCAs tonight. #lucky #starstruck **@egold** ,” it read, with the photo of them attached.

           Someone else had mentioned him. Belle had tweeted and tagged him during the show. **“@belle_french** : #TCA red carpet with **@egold** xx,” it read, attached to a photo of them on the carpet. He might’ve believed they liked each other, despite the fact he knew Belle had insulted him moments before the photo was taken.

It wasn’t satisfying, this feeling inside of him. He should’ve tried to be more cordial to her. He should’ve been nicer, been the charmer everyone expected him to be. He should’ve worked harder, he should’ve, he should’ve, he should’ve. The list of things he was angry at himself was growing, and his expectations for this movie were higher than they’d ever been. Maybe he needed to do what his ex-wife kept insisting, visit a proper psychiatrist and stop self-medicating. Quiet the inner demons, one way or another.  As the city lights grew dim and he drifted off to sleep, he felt emptier than ever before.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Filming has begun, and Belle and Ehran film their first scenes together. Afterwards, Ehran looks to disappear and Belle doesn’t know what to think.

It was two weeks into production, and Belle was prepped to film for her first scene with Ehran. They were filming out of order, and today was their first day filming on a secluded beach where their characters took a weekend off from their busy lives to be together. Needless to say, Belle was grinding her teeth and feeling overwhelmingly anxious as the hair person teased her curls into the “perfect but normal looking messy bun” the scene called for. Luckily, they were letting her go pretty natural as far as makeup went for this movie. After her hair was done, wardrobe double checked that she was in the right white tank-top with the right bikini top just-visible underneath, with the right cutoff lacy jean shorts. She was good to go, but apparently a flock of birds had overtaken the set and they were waiting for them to move.

           Every set member was gushing about Ehran – apparently, he was a perfect gentleman while filming, nailing his solo scenes and watching them himself afterwards to make sure he was satisfied with how they looked. For Belle, it was easy to slide into the role of Miranda Smith – she was a curious graduate student who sought out Ehran’s character, Dr. Richard Allman, to help her with her thesis. He initially turns her away, but her persistence makes him agree. They flash through scenes of them working together, and it soon becomes obvious that they’re working relationship turns into a love affair. The watcher realizes he grows obsessed with her, murdering her neighbor in order to get her to move in with him. After a heated confrontation, Richard murders Miranda as well. The movie would end with a voiceover from Belle as they showed Miranda’s funeral, warning the dangers of people falling in love with the wrong person.

           It was a book before it was a movie, and Belle had devoured “Eloquence” on the set of one of her pilots. She almost didn’t realize the producers had come in to announce their cancellation; she was so absorbed in the book. It shot up bestseller’s list across the world, and a movie was soon underway. When the script passed through her agent, Belle knew she was meant to play Miranda. For the past two weeks, she’d filmed scenes with Mulan Yang that took place in the bar supposedly under Miranda’s apartment. They played best friends, and Miranda and Jamie’s conversations served as fill-ins for information that didn’t have a place to actually be filmed. Belle adored Mulan, and they’d had a great time on set.

           The next three weeks would be filming with other minor characters, but mostly Ehran. After a two week break for Christmas and New Year’s, they’d return to filming for another three weeks. Post-production would take a few months, and then they’d be doing interviews and attending premieres across the globe. Someone from the set had come in to tell her they were pushing back filming until after lunch, and another person from crafts had brought her a salad and an iced tea. She turned on her radio, cranking it up and pulling out her phone as she munched on her salad.

           Her notifications were popping. Apparently, she’d hit 3 million followers and they wanted their Q&A. Well, never a better time than the present.

“ **@belle_french** : “ **@belleiskween** : what’s your favorite color? #AskBelle” blue xx”

“ **@belle_french** : “ **@frenchluvr** : what’s your favorite tv show? #AskBelle” my friend **@rubylucas** ’ show on the travel channel!!”

“ **@belle_french** : “ **@mistydayn** : who’s your favorite person to work with?” never a bad time with **@mulany** on set xx :)”

“ **@belle_french** : “ **@jay293** : most challenging role? #AskBelle” daneen in #independencebay xx”

“ **@belle_french** : “ **@gogomoon** : scariest moment? #AskBelle” asthma attack when i was young :(“

“ **@belle_french** : “ **@frenchfan45** : best advice you’ve ever gotten #AskBelle?” my dad always told me to find the bright side of any situation.”

“ **@belle_french** : “ **@ehransbae** : are you excited to work with **@egold**?” of course!! xx”

She answered a few more, alternating between typing and eating until her salad was nearly gone. Her notifications were bombarded with questions, some thoughtful and some not-so-much. She noticed her verified mentions were busy as well - the most recent was from Ehran Gold himself. “ **@egold** : **@belle_french** why is your trailer door locked? also, you’re a lovely singer. #AskBelle”

She immediately stopped singing, not even realizing she had been trying, and failing, to harmonize with the song about “talking bodies”. Belle got up and opened her door, and sure enough, Ehran Gold was in front of her.

“I didn’t know it was locked,” she said quickly, and he entered, sitting on the couch that took up most of the room in the trailer.

Belle sat back down where she had been eating her lunch, turning the hair chair to face him. She worried about the obvious tension from their last encounter, but he didn’t appear to be worried at all. He was on his phone, and before she could say anything, he tooked a picture of her. “Hey!” she said, “I wasn’t ready!”

“You weren’t supposed to be,” he said with a grin, leaning back.

Belle’s phone dinged. “ **@egold** : parle français **@belle_french**?” the tweet read, along with a photo of Belle. She was looking at the wall above Ehran, and it looked like a thoughtful photo. She retweeted it, then looked back up at him.

“I want to apologize,” they said at the same time.

He smiled. “We’re already on the same page. Brilliant.”

She nodded. “I’m not sure how you found those things out, but… I overreacted and shouldn’t have let my preconceived notions of you ruin my attitude. I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trailing off as she finished her thought. Her sentiment was true, she’d acted like a spoiled child the last time they’d seen each other.

“Damn right you should be sorry,” he said seriously, with a nod. She felt herself frown, and his face split into a grin.

“I’m kidding, Belle Fre-, Belle. I should be sorry. I acted like a total idiot. It was wrong of me to confront you that way, and I should’ve taken our appearance together more seriously. I hope you can forgive me.”

Belle nodded, and they both grew silent, just kind of observing each other. She couldn’t help but notice the distance in his eyes as he spoke, but she was choosing to decide he was being genuine. They were about to have to act like they were in love, they shouldn’t be enemies.

“That was some great singing,” he said, faux-seriously. “Tell me where you learned to harmonize like that.”

“Oh please,” said Belle, rolling her eyes. “I’m terrible.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. I’ve got no musical skill at all,” he revealed.

Belle thought for a moment. “I saw you play piano in that drama -”

“It was for a role. Haven’t touched a piano since,” he said, cutting her short.  “Well,” he continued, clapping his hands together as he rose from his seat. “Just wanted to make sure we were okay. See you out there, my Miranda.”

“See you, my Richard.”

\---

He’d known the apology was necessary, but he didn’t know she’d look so damn excited about it. She was too hopeful, Belle French. He needed to stop disliking her - he couldn’t dislike her because she was hopeful, her youth and her exuberance about life practically floating off of her. She talked about preconceived notions, and his for her was that she was America’s - or, maybe, Australia’s, sweetheart, and that she’d never understand him.

Either way, it would do little good to worry too much about Belle French. He’d played lovers before, and aside from some nights after filming stopped, nothing much had ever come of it in reality. Acting was his job. Acting like he was in love with her character was his job. He’d have to separate his feelings towards Belle from his character’s feeling for her character. Today was a relatively easy day, lounging on a beach. Not too many lines. Actually, it was mostly scenes without any lines, really, just them enjoying the beach as any couple in love would do.

Ehran was waiting near the director’s chair for him to call everyone to set. He’d never worked with Archibald Hopper before, but the man radiated wisdom and was fairly respected. Insisting that everyone call him Archie, he was well-liked on the set and Ehran normally agreed with his instructions on scenes. Next to the directors chair, the author of Eloquence, Isaac Heller was anxiously awaiting filming to begin. He was a middle-aged man who had several other novels besides Eloquence, but this book in particular had rocketed him to being a household name.The reality was that movie studios give authors very little say in what happened in their movie adaptations. Isaac wasn’t spending much time on set, but Ehran had spoken to him during lunch about his character’s inner turmoil before he decided to talk to Belle.

Ehran wasn’t left waiting long. Soon enough, the extras were in position and Archie called him and Belle over. She had been hanging a safe distance away from him, someone re-doing her hair. Archie smiled at them.

“My two main roles, together at last. Let’s rock this. Your relationship just started, it’s your first vacation together, you’re falling in love - give me puppy eyes, laughter, everything. Belle, do you have any concerns about this?”

Belle shook her head. “I’m good.”

“Excellent. Ehran, questions?”

“Nope.”

With that, they were situated on beach towels. It was actually fairly cold out, and he couldn’t help but notice Belle shiver. His outfit wasn’t much better, a t-shirt and swim trunks, but she had it worse. Archie called for them to start, and they had their conversation. Luckily, Belle had her lines memorized. He’d played across some airheads who thought lines were a secondary concern. She said the lines coyly, leaning in to speak closer to him. He was Richard, and she was Miranda, flirting with intelligent quips and shy compliments.

After a few takes with different ways of saying the lines, Archie told them they were good. They needed some footage to choose from for one of Miranda’s monologues, and they were instructed to just “have fun - you’re at the beach.”

“It’s freezing,” Belle muttered right before the camera began to roll again.

He scooped her off her feet, surprising her and getting a genuine squeal.She was over his shoulder and he was running towards the water, dropping her down into the frigid waves carefully.

“Nooo!” she yelled, laughing as she splashed him with the freezing water. Archie encouraged them to continue, and they were in and out of the water, soaking each other completely. After a short break where they were dried off, they shot from another angle, with them concentrating on building a sand castle, and then another where Belle and he were under an umbrella, her reading a book and him asleep next to her. It would all be mashed together to look like the perfect vacation.

Isaac high-fived both of them as a large jacket was handed to Belle by someone on set, which she gratefully accepted.

“Good, Mr. Heller?” asked Belle.

“Yes, and your American accent is outstanding,” he said, beaming as he looked at them back and forth. “Exquisite casting, simply exquisite...” he trailed off, before an extra approached him with a question.

Ehran almost hadn’t noticed Belle’s easy transition back to her normal Australian accent. He hadn’t thought of her as Belle during the few hours they’d filmed, he’d thought of her as Miranda. It was easiest to simply become his character while he was doing movies.

Archie told them it was a success, and they were good to go home for the night. Belle slipped away without saying anything to him, and he briefly considered going to say goodbye to her, to tell her she’d done a good job. But that was ridiculous - she was an actress, surely she knew she was good at acting.

He hadn’t trusted himself to drive for quite some time, and someone from the company Regina hired for him was waiting just beyond the closed set’s walls.

“Home, Mr. Gold?” the driver asked.

“Yes, please,” he said, climbing into the backseat.

He pulled out his phone. Nothing new or important, just a few messages from Regina about offers for various advertisements. The only interesting one was for a cologne… he’d have her look into that, but everything else was tacky. He clicked Twitter - he’d actually tweeted his own original thought to Belle today, despite his normal avoidance of social media. Smirking, he recalled her warbling from her trailer earlier that day. He clicked her profile, and found she’d tweeted a few moments ago.

“ **@belle_french** : this view makes my job completely worth it. live from the eloquence set,” it read, along with an image of the sun setting from the beach they’d just been at. He must’ve just missed her, not that he’d wanted to interact with her again. It was best to keep his distance from her.

He turned off his phone, closing his eyes and emptying his mind of thoughts until the car reached his home. He entered quickly, excited to nurse an aged whiskey and take whatever would help him finally sleep through the damn night. Looking around, Ehran realized his place was more of a mess than he realized - he hadn’t cared to clean or to call for a cleaner in some time. His next time to film was a couple days away, and he’d use it to do nothing and re-read the book. The constant headache that lurked behind his eyes was pounding, and he wanted nothing more than to go off the grid until it was absolutely necessary to reappear.

\---

After changing into more appropriate clothing and driving back to her home, Belle found Mulan was painting her toenails on her kitchen floor. Mulan lived in New York, and Belle had offered her house as a crash-site during Eloquence filming. Belle settled down on the floor next to her, resting her head on her shoulder.

“Hey doll. Long day?” asked Mulan, finishing her second coat of the deep green nail polish she was applying.

Belle made a humming sound, leaning forward to dig through the nail polish’s Mulan had in a bowl. She picked a soft pink, and began to work on her own toes. It was almost theraputic, until Mulan asked about her day again.

“How was Ehran? Was he awful?” she asked, looking at Belle with an expression that read she was eager for the details of their day.

“He was….good,” said Belle, trying to think of the right adjectives to describe him. He’d been nice while he apologized, incredibly easy to work with, and distant in-between scenes. Maybe he just wasn’t comfy-cozy with co-workers, and that was fine with Belle. They didn’t have to be friends, but friendship made it easier.

“Just good?” asked Mulan, quirking an eyebrow up in surprise. “No drama?”

Belle shrugged. “Just good. He apologized for the TCA thing and we filmed together and it was fine. He’s an incredible actor,” she said, blowing lightly on her painted toes. She pulled in her knees, resting her head on top of them and folding her arms.

Mulan nodded. “You’ll tell me more about him when you want to,” she said, a small smirk on her face.

“What do you mean?” asked Belle, frowning.

“People don’t work with Ehran Gold for six weeks and not fall in love. He’s too pretty for that.”

“Mulan, you don’t even like guys,” Belle replied, pushing her friend on the shoulder teasingly. Mulan shrugged. “I’m not blind, Belle.”

“Fair enough,” said Belle, biting her lip. “He’s just...different. I can’t get a read on him. It’ll take a while, but I can’t tell if he likes me or not.”

“I’m sure he does. Speaking of pretty faces, when are you going to go to that club with me?”

Belle sighed. Clubs were not really her scene, but Mulan wanted to go see the DJ, a violet-eyed girl who was gaining popularity in Los Angeles. “Maybe… Friday?” She was filming the rest of the week, with Friday being the day she got off-early and started her weekend.

Mulan nodded. “I’m holding you to that.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Filming hits an interesting scene. At the end of the day, Belle goes out for the night and sees someone she wasn’t expecting to.

Friday was a half day of filming, but arguably one of the most pivotal scenes of the movie. Richard’s character had sent Miranda away after she had indicated she wanted to be more than friends, but today was where she came back and he realized she truly was interested in him. It was akin to Beauty and the Beast, and it was supposed to be a focal point of the film. When Miranda opened the door, the book described Richard as being “shocked, almost scared to see her. Without saying anything, he was in front of her, one hand in her hair and one on her back as he embraced her and they had their first long, real, passionate kiss.” Belle was instructed be surprised, but to melt into it.

Whenever Belle had brought up rehearsing the kiss, Ehran had brushed her off. In running through lines, he would get close to her, but never the full instructions. He told her he wanted her to be really surprised. Belle supposed it was a method actor thing. Today was the day, and she was waiting for the set call, tapping her foot nervously as someone combed through her hair again.

“Are you excited to kiss him?” asked one of the bubbly hair people, a redhead named Ariel. She motioned towards Ehran, who was sitting down the row of chairs idly scrolling on his phone.

Belle shrugged humbly. She’d kissed a lot of co-stars, and wasn’t sure why something in her fluttered when she thought about kissing Ehran. When they filmed together, he made her understand why their characters fell for each other, but off-screen, he was distant and sort of awkward to talk to. To others, he was charismatic, but with her it was different. She didn’t know why, but she continued to hope he’d warm up to her.

Everything on set was in it’s place, and Belle had her cue from Archie to get ready for the scene. She looked over at Ehran, and she could’ve sworn he winked before strolling to his spot on the set. The countdown started, the market was set, and the scene had begun. She opened the door, finding him standing at what was supposed to be his desk. His eyes completely changed when he saw her, no longer focused on the paper in his hand. He dropped the prop, his eyes widening with a mixture of hope and sadness, and Belle hoped her face reflected the  combination of love and desperation and desire of her character but she didn’t have time to think about any of it as he had strode over and took her in his arms, kissing her with an urgency. Belle hesitated at first, surprised herself at his swift action, but she felt her arms wrap around his shoulder as he ran his along her body, fitting comfortably in his arms. They walked backwards together, still entangled, towards another door which would lead into the next scene they were filming at a later time. Archie called for them to stop, and they broke apart. Belle was breathing heavily, and Ehran was looking at her with a bewildered expression.

“Bloody hell,” he mumbled, spinning around to face Archie. Belle smoothed out her shirt, feeling overwhelmed and unsure of what to process first.

Archie began a slow clap. “That. Was. Phenomenal. Belle, you seemed completely surprised. The chemistry practically shot out at me. Keep this up.”

And so they did it, again and again, but Belle knew that they would wind up using the first take when she’d been genuinely surprised about his lips suddenly meeting hers. The set supervisors were finally satisfied with the amount of material they had to work with, and everyone was free to go. Ehran gave her a half wave, and she couldn’t help but be disappointed when he left before she could say anything to him, not even some smartass remark about him being a decent kisser. It was his character kissing her character, not him kissing her, so she wasn’t sure why she was running her fingers over her lips as she left the studio for the day.

Killian was waiting for her outside the studio. She hadn’t found an excuse to not go to the nightclub with Mulan, but luckily Ruby was in town and had agreed to go along as well. Belle had considered inviting Emma, but some cryptic texts had led her to give Killian the night off and Emma his number.

On the ride home, Belle flipped through news articles and winded up in the “Entertainment” section. She tried not to read tabloids, but it was funny when she knew the real situations as opposed to the blown-up fabricated stories the public believed. She was about to read about the latest Kardashian scandal when she saw her own name.

**“Belle French and Ehran Gold: Confirmed Dating”**

Well, that was interesting, given the man ignored her after their first strange encounters. She clicked the headline. The first photo was her leaving Whole Foods, then a second photo of Ehran leaving Whole Foods. The photos were from the same date, and the article claimed they had entered and left moments after each other, arriving and leaving in separate cars to avoid people knowing about their rendezvous. She giggled at the thought - did people think they were hooking up in the organic soybean aisle? She had gone on a Whole Foods run, yes, but she hadn’t seen him at all during her trip. The article finished by declaring them #Ehrelle and saying they hoped the couple would become more public as their relationship progressed. Some “insider” had said they were taking it slow. Unfortunately for the readers who commented that they wanted to see more, it was glacial at the moment.

After arriving home, Belle found her cat was asleep on her bed. She followed Freckle’s example, taking a nap until Mulan moving around in the neighboring guest bedroom woke her up. Belle stood up groggily, looking at her outfit. She’d changed out of her set clothes at work, and had put on an oversized t-shirt and leggings. Her hair was in a messy bun. She peeked into Mulan’s room, seeing her friend straightening her hair and wearing a dangerously figure-hugging little black dress. Mulan saw her out of the corner of her eye, rolling her eyes at Belle’s current state. “You better start getting ready, Belle,” she said, and Belle nodded, turning around and entering her room again.

Her closet wasn’t typical club-wear, mostly comfy clothes and casual outfits for hanging out with friends. She reached into the very back, wondering if the dress from an old photoshoot still fit. It was completely blue and sparkly, long sleeved, but the skirt of it barely hit her mid-thigh. It was perfect for the club. She anxiously got undressed and zipped herself into the dress, only having to wriggle a bit to get it to be almost comfortable. She grabbed a pair of black heels, and undid her hair. The bun had actually made her hair into manageable waves, and all she had to was put some volume spray in it and run her hand through it a couple times before it was acceptable. The doorbell rang.

Ruby was waiting, her hair freshly highlighted with red streaks wearing a matching tiny red romper. Ruby was good at clubs. Mulan was good at clubs. Belle was not.

They were soon on their way, with Leroy driving them to the club Mulan was eagerly awaiting going to. The line trailing outside the club was long, but their trio passed through security with ease. Several paparazzi had snapped their photo as they walked in together, and Belle kept looking forward, not giving them the money shot of her looking directly at them. The music was pulsating, and Mulan’s crush was spinning at the DJ’s table. The nightclub was packed with people, and Ruby immediately hit the dance floor, finding a few males to dance with. Belle held back, then decided to join in. It wouldn’t hurt anything to dance. Mulan made her way to the front.

It must’ve been a few hours of alternating between dancing with the guys Ruby had found and drinking at the long bar. The club was smoky, with laser-like neon lights shooting out from the DJ’s booth. Eventually, Mulan found her, and the DJ in question was at her side.

She went by Sleeping Beauty, but Belle found out her real name was Aurora Smith. She wore intriguing purple contacts, and her outfit was a plain black sweatshirt and jeans, but she still seemed to be one of the most noticeable people in the room. Her fair-colored long hair tumbled over one shoulder, with part of it in a trendy buzzcut. Aurora’s wide eyes seemed constantly sleepy, and despite the hype of her tracks, she seemed fairly down to earth. Belle liked her immediately for her sweetness. Mulan seemed pretty into her, and luckily, she seemed to like hanging off Mulan’s side.

She was interrupted from talking to Aurora and Mulan with Ruby tapping at her shoulder. “Can I use Leroy to get home?” she asked, motioning backwards at one of the guys they had been dancing with.

“Really? Home so soon?” asked Belle, taking a sip of her water. She liked to limit her alcohol intake while everyone else did shots. It was more entertaining, and she didn’t have the hangover like they did the next day. She was a one-drink kind of girl, and it might’ve been a teasing-factor that night, but it was a win for her in the morning.

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Can I use your driver or not?”

Belle shrugged. “Yeah. Fine. Text me so I know you get home alright.”

Ruby nodded, giving the thumbs-up to the guy behind her before taking his hand and beginning their fight through the crowd towards the exit.

“I guess it’s just-” Belle began, turning to face Mulan and Aurora, who had apparently discovered PDA and weren’t afraid of it.

“Well, that was fast,” Belle muttered quietly, turning to see if she could catch up with Ruby. Someone else caught her eye, at the end of the bar. He was sitting alone, but she was sure it was him. Belle walked over slowly, taking the seat next to him. He looked over at her briefly, taking in her outfit and looking back at his nearing-empty glass.

“Another,” he called, and the bartender nodded.

“How many’s that?” she asked calmly, setting her water down on the bar.

“Not your business,” he said briskly, running a hand through his hair as he turned to face her again.

She shrugged. “Maybe not,” she said, swirling her straw around and watching him down another drink. He wasn’t wearing his work clothes - normally a suit or nice pants and a sweater vest of some kind. He was just wearing jeans, a white shirt, and a black leather jacket. It was a good look for him.

“How’s your life going, Belle?” he asked, his face splitting into a smile.

She frowned. “It’s fine. I’ve got this one coworker, real pain in my arse..” she trailed off, raising her arms in a “what-can-you-do” kind of motion.

“Your accent is thicker when you’re drunk,” he observed, raising his eyebrows.

“I’m not drunk. My last drink was hours ago. This is water,” she said. “It’s just loud in here.”

He grabbed her drink, taking a sip and giving her a saddened look as he swallowed. “Just water? No way to experience a club…”

“You don’t strike me as a club kind of guy, Ehran,” she said.

He shrugged. “I don’t remember asking you.”

Belle smiled. “The sarcasm is appreciated. Are you drunk?”

He nodded. “Yes. I needed to get out of my head.”

Belle was puzzled. That was an odd thing to say, but he was an odd guy. He didn’t seem to be ogling at any women like his reputation might make one assume, just minding his own business. He sipped his drink, turning to her again. “She said I can’t talk to him,” he said. Belle almost didn’t catch it for the quiet way he said it in the loud room, his thick Scottish accent making it harder to understand him. She had to focus on his words to make out what he was saying.

“Can’t talk to who?” Belle asked, tilting her head curiously.

“My son,” he bit out.

She felt herself brace, surprised at the anger in his voice.

“She said I can’t talk to him and it’s his birthday,” he repeated, tapping his fingers on the bar.

“She?” Belle said, trying to figure out what he was going on about.

“Ex-wife,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Few months hardly qualifies as a marriage.”

“Oh,” said Belle quietly, “I’m sorry, I don’t-”

“Nothing you can say. I just want to talk to him. She won’t let me talk to him.”

Belle nodded, feeling sorry for him. If he wasn’t going on about nothing, and it was truly his son’s birthday, it must be awful to be at this nightclub and not with him.

“I just want to talk to him, Belle,” he said again, staring at her desperately before returning to his drink.

She took in this information, motioning at the bartender to bring the bill. She slid him her card, paying for Ehran’s bill. He finished his drink, continuing to stare thoughtfully at the wall, ignoring the pounding nightlife surrounding them, and Belle continued to sit next to him. Something in her wanted to make sure he got home okay. He eventually looked at her and said something about leaving, so she took his arm as he made his way towards the exit. They made their way to the parking lot, and Belle was thankful the cameras seemed to have disappeared. “Where’s your driver?” she asked.

Ehran shook his head. “No. Drove myself. Needed to drive somewhere,” he said, heading for a tiny black sportscar that had to cost more than buying a small island would.

“Oh no,” said Belle, “you are not driving yourself home.”

He shrugged. “Used to drive like this a lot. Didn’t get caught. There’s no harm,” he slurred, reaching for the driver’s door. Belle beat him to it, sliding into the seat. “You’re the passenger tonight,” she informed him.

She wished she hadn’t let Ruby use her driving services, but she wouldn’t let Ehran onto the roads in his state. He fumbled to get his seatbelt on, but once he did she clicked something on the GPS and it told her they were routed for “home”. Good. She could do this.

\---

Bloody Belle French was driving his new car. She was a mite thing, and she had to pull the seat all the way up so she could see over the steering wheel. She was driving barefoot, too. Maybe she’d left her shoes in the club. Some girls did that a lot, but he never knew if they went back to get them. Didn’t matter to him.

His thoughts were swirling, and he thought he was telling her a story but it turned out he hadn’t been saying anything, and that the radio host was the one telling the story. It was confusing. They pulled up to his house, but Belle had parked on the street. His house had a gate. It was in a fancy neighborhood, and it was very, very big. Belle opened the door for him, and Ehran got out obediently.

“You’re very beautiful,” he said honestly, and she gave him a disapproving look before telling him to get moving.

“I’m just going to leave your car here,” she said. “I’m calling someone to drive me home.”

“You’re going home?” he asked, incredibly disappointed. “Come in for coffee. Don’t wait out here.”

Belle shifted her weight from foot to foot, still barefoot, then nodded. They walked together down the gated sidewalk, until Belle began to sniff the air suspiciously.

“My neighbors are big smokers,” he said apologetically, and she nodded, holding her arm to her nose to avoid the smell.

They were almost to his gate when everything happened at once. A paparazzi jumped at them from around a bush, shocking both of their eyes with the flash of his camera. Belle tripped in surprise, toppling into the bush, hitting her knees hard on the pavement. He reached down to help her get back up, suddenly fully aware of what was going on. The clicking of the camera continued as Belle returned to her feet. He used one hand to cover Belle’s face from the glare as the other punched in his security code. Belle was close to his side, breathing shakily. A quick glance told him her knees were bleeding, and she had begun to cough quite violently.

“Go towards the house,” he whispered, and she nodded, taking shaky steps past the opened gate.

“This is private property. Sell one photo and I’ll have your head,” he hissed at the paparazzi, who had been watching their interaction with wide, greedy-eyes.

The man scampered off, and he rushed after Belle, who had stopped in her tracks and was nearly doubled over in a coughing fit.

“Belle?” he asked, reaching to steady her.

She looked up at him, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “I - can’t - stop,” she managed, covering her mouth as the coughing continued.

He didn’t know what to do. Why couldn’t she stop coughing? What would - asthma. She had tweeted that she had asthma and this must be an asthma attack. Did adults even have asthma? - that didn’t matter at all. Belle was very real and very presently in distress.

“Can you make it to the house?” he asked, and she opened her mouth to answer, but was instead wracked with another coughing fit. He shook his head, scooping her up into his arms. She hardly weighed a thing. A thought entered his mind - she was completely dependent on him right now. He pushed that away, focusing on moving as quickly as he could. He got her to the front door, haphazardly opening it and setting her down on the closest couch.

“Can’t - stop,” she choked out again, her face pale and sweaty, tears running down her cheeks. He was sitting next to her nervously, trying to figure out how to help her as she coughed. She looked so small with her mascara running and her hair falling in front of her eyes, her hands clenching the couch rigidly.  

“Do you have an inhaler?” he asked finally, remembering people with asthma normally carried those. He absently noticed her knees were both bleeding onto the floor, but that didn’t seem to be critical to this situation.

She shook her head. “At home,” she managed.

He was exasperated, unsure how to help her without any kind of medical knowledge on what was happening to her at all.

“My chest,” she said slowly, her hand rising cautiously above her heart. She was looking at him like a frightened child, scared of what was happening. “I can’t stop,” she whispered again, before another coughing fit began and tears continued to slide from her eyes.

“Belle, I’m calling 911. It’s going to be okay,” he said, pushing the stray hairs out from in front of her eyes.

She nodded, and he couldn’t help but pray that he hadn’t just lied to her.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the asthma attack.

  The following events were a blur. From calling the emergency number to the paramedics arriving, Ehran felt like he was watching, not moving. He wasn’t the one holding Belle’s hand as she spoke in fragmented sentences to the attentive paramedics, he wasn’t the one rubbing her back as she walked to the ambulance. They’d wanted to carry her on a stretcher, but she’d refused. They arrived at the hospital fairly quickly, and her grip on his hand was tight as she reluctantly let them wheel her to a room. Doctors were quickly in and out, asking her questions about her night, and when she couldn’t answer them, Ehran tried.

            They gave her some kind of steroid and the goddamned coughing finally stopped. Belle was asleep fairly shortly after that, worn out from the night, but nurses were in and out checking her vitals and other numbers. They told him everything they were testing, but he just nodded and didn’t tell them he had no idea what it meant. He was sitting in the side chair and waiting for her to wake up. He was habitually checking his phone, but he wasn’t sure what he was waiting for.         Belle’s pixie-like manager was soon in the room. She was listed as Belle’s emergency contact so the hospital had called her upon her checking in, and she rushed to Belle’s side.

            “Baby, how’d this happen?” Mary Margaret asked quietly, her hair automatically reaching to brush Belle’s tangled hair out of her eyes. Belle stirred a bit, and Mary Margaret sighed, going to the end of the bed to read her chart.

            Ehran cleared his throat. “She - she got her lungs filled with cigarette smoke and then she fell into a bush. It triggered an asthma attack, she didn’t have her inhaler.”

            Mary Margaret spun on her toes to face him, as if noticing his presence for the first time. “Ehran, what are you doing here?”

            “I was with her. It’s my fault,” he said quietly.

            The woman shook her head, pursing her lips. “Did anyone see you together?” she asked, and he could tell the wheels in her head were turning as she checked her phone.

            “Sixty-seven new Google alerts for the name Belle French,” she read aloud, her eyes widening as she scrolled the page. “There’s a photo of you guys entering the hospital from someone who was working - it’s your back and it’s blurry, but it’s you guys. She’s not seen, but her hand is reaching for yours. There’s another one from you guys leaving that club together. Twitter’s going crazy. Damn it all…” she muttered.

            Before he could reply to her, Regina Mills was in the room. It might’ve been 4am, but Regina was perfectly coifed and acting as if this trip was nothing other than ordinary. “Did you get her pregnant?” she asked, right as Ehran said, “how’d you bloody get in here?”

            “I track your phone,” she said matter-of-factly, “and I said I was her sister,” she continued, half nodding at Belle’s sleeping figure.

            “They believed that?” Mary Margaret asked. Regina shrugged. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

            “We need better security… I’m calling Killian to watch the door,” Mary Margaret said, mostly to herself as she dialed a number on her phone.

            “Don’t-” a voice whispered weakly. The trio turned. Belle was awake, and she was upset. “Don’t call Killian. I won’t be here long.” Belle’s voice was scratchy, and each word took determined concentration.

            Mary Margaret was instantly at her side, cooing and telling her how strong she was. It was like she was her mother. Belle’s eyes were focused on Ehran, and he felt like shrinking into his shoes. As they’d moved from his house to the hospital, he had a singular thought. It was all his fault she was hurt, all his fault she’d had an asthma attack. Something was always his fault, and now he’d hurt his beautiful coworker.

            “What the hell is she here for?” Regina whispered, grabbing Ehran by the shirtsleeve.

            “Asthma attack,” he whispered back.

            “God, that’s a relief. I’ve got twelve voicemails asking if it was a pregnancy problem, three asking if it was from something acrobatic, and another asking if you hit her,” Regina listed off.

            “If I hit her?”

            “I doubted that one, you’ve never been violent. Well, except to yourself,” Regina said with a chuckle. “Let’s go, we’ll send her a flower basket and send out a statement that says you’re very sorry and can’t wait to see her back on set.”

            “Did I hear statement?” Mary Margaret asked from the other side of the room. “Let’s do a joint one,” she suggested, and Regina nodded. “From what Belle said, Ehran was quite the hero.”

            Ehran looked over at Belle sharply, and she nodded. “He was,” she remarked, and he thought he saw a spark of something in her eyes. Whatever it was, she was wrong. If he hadn’t been so foolish and forced her to go with him, she would’ve been fine.

            A doctor came in then, and Mary Margaret and Belle attentively listened to his instructions. They were keeping Belle for another twentyfour hours to monitor different rates, and then she needed to schedule an appointment with her regular doctor to make sure her current inhaler still worked. The doctor also warned that Belle’s voice would be scratchy from all the coughing for a while. Regina sighed.

            “I’ll call the producers to say their starring role’s little trip is going to hold production,” she said, pulling her phone out of her purse. “The crew and cast can thank Belle for an unexpected break.”

            “And I’ll get to work on the statement,” Mary Margaret said, ignoring Regina’s clear distaste for Belle, and typing quickly. With both of their managers busy, Ehran cautiously sat down next to Belle.

            “Hey,” she said quietly, turning to face him.

            “Hi,” he replied. “How are you?”

            It was a dumb question, but nothing else was coming to mind.

            “I’m okay,” she said with a small, sleepy smile. “Thanks to you.”

            His head was spinning as she reached to hold his hand again. “Belle, it’s my fault you’re even here, if I hadn’t asked you to go in with me, you wouldn’t have tripped, and then -”

            She shushed him. “It’s okay, Ehran. It could’ve happened at any time. And now I’ll talk to my doctor, and make sure I’m taking care of myself,” she said, her voice rasping near the end of her sentence.

            “Don’t talk too much, Belle,” Mary Margaret warned. “They’ll want you back at set just as soon as possible.”

            Belle nodded, miming zipping her lips. When Mary Margaret had turned back to talk to Regina, she whispered to Ehran that it was okay for him to go home and get some sleep. It pained him to leave her, but he obeyed her request.

\---

            The released statement was printed in numerous magazines and online publications.

 

_“Late last night, Ehran Gold and Belle French were walking to Ehran’s house when multiple triggers caused Belle to have an asthma attack. Ehran acted diligently and called the paramedics, and Belle was rushed to the closest hospital. She is expected to make a speedy recovery, and she thanks fans for their concern. Both Ehran and Belle look forward to returning to work as soon as possible.”_

           

            Belle re-read the words as she prepared for the photographer to arrive at her house. People Magazine had called Mary Margaret and asked for Belle to give a testimony, and the majority of the article would talk about asthma attacks and how to prevent them.

            Belle hadn’t been to work in a week, and it was driving her crazy. There was only so much she could do following the doctor’s restricted activity list, so she’d mostly been lounging around, hanging out with Freckles, and reading. Not working made her anxious, and being anxious made her feel useless. She tapped her fingers on the cool kitchen counter, waiting on the reporter and photographer. Jefferson had stopped by and done her makeup in a subtle, natural way, and straightened her hair, curling the ends. Mary Margaret was there, too, anxiously straightening up Belle’s living room for the photographs.

            The doorbell rang. _Finally._ However, it wasn’t People Magazine at the door. It was Ehran Gold. Belle shrugged off her surprised expression quickly and smiled, “to what do I owe this visit?”

            He was suddenly shy, shuffling his feet and holding up a bag. “I was just grocery shopping, and I bought some soup and I, uh, guess I thought of you. Just wanted to check on you.”

            “Oh my god, that’s so thoughtful,” Belle said, “Come on in!” Ehran obliged, entering slowly. “Are you expecting someone, or does your house always look this perfect?”

            “Oh, I do have a reporter and photographer coming in a minute. To talk about the asthma thing,” she explained as she lead him to her kitchen.

            “I don’t want to intrude,” he said quickly, looking back at the door.

            “No, no, it’s fine!” Belle assured him, taking the bag from his hands. Mary Margaret came to the entrance, giving Ehran a cautious smile. “Belle, I didn’t know Ehran was going to be in the photos.”

            “I’m not,” he clarified. “Just visiting.”

            “We’ll see,” Mary Margaret mused with a sneaky look. Ehran watched awkwardly as Belle put the large container of soup in her fridge. “Are you vegetarian?” he asked with a startled face. “There’s chicken in the soup and I didn’t even think to call and ask.”

            Belle reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. “No, Ehran, I’m not. It’s perfect. Thank you.”

            There was an awkward pause, and she moved her hand back from his shoulder. “Are you going crazy yet?” she asked. He gave her a puzzled look. “I mean, from not working!”

            “Oh, I’ve been keeping busy,” he lied cooly. He hadn’t done anything but sit at home and watch old movies and call his ex-wife.

            “I can hardly do anything,” Belle complained.

            “Your voice sounds a lot better,” Ehran pointed out. “That’s good.”

            “Mmhmm,” Belle said absently, distracted with the knock at the door. Mary Margaret ushered a reporter and photographer in. The female of the pair smiled brightly.

            “Tiana Green, reporter, thank you for allowing us in your home,” she beamed as she shook Belle’s hand. “This is my photographer, Naveen Gayle. And…” Tiana’s eyes grew wide as she saw Ehran. “Mr. Gold. Are you joining us today?”

            “I was just leaving, actually,” he said quickly, looking at Belle for confirmation. She paused, biting her lip. “Why don’t you stay, actually, if you don’t mind? It’d be a better picture with you in it.”

            “Not sure about that,” he said. “But if you want, and Ms. Green doesn’t mind.”

            “No trouble at all!” Tiana assured him. Mary Margaret clapped her hands together. “Excellent. Let’s go to the living room.”

            Belle sensed Ehran’s tension as they settled down next to each other on her couch, but he loosened up as she told a (filtered) version of the night’s events, and he interjected softly with his own thoughts.

            When Tiana was satisfied with what she’d heard, it was Naveen’s time to shine. He was had a gentle demeanor as he positioned them together on the couch. He’d been taking photos of them talking as well for some candids. Ehran was next to Belle with his arm around her shoulder and she was leaning slightly into him. They gave their best smiles and some serious looks, going with the Naveen’s directions, and soon enough, the media team was gone. Mary Margaret was enthusiastic as she showed them out, happy with the positivite publicity they’d receive in the next issue of the magazine. She offered to pay for celebratory drinks, and neither of them declined despite Ehran’s initial hesitation. They met David at a quiet restaurant, and Belle silently thought it was the happiest she’d felt for a while.

\---

            The picture of Ehran and Belle that ran on the front of the magazine was a candid, with Belle’s eyes bright and her hands explaining something and Ehran looking at her with an amused expression. They weren’t the main cover story - some rocker had just welcomed twins, but they were on the side, and the headline read, “Co-Star Saves the Day: Asthma Scare”. The photo that accompanied the article inside the magazine was one of the posed ones of them looking serious, along with the photos paparazzi had taken of them that night.

 

_“Actress **Belle French** , 29, has suffered for asthma for most of her life. However, it wasn’t until recently that she realized how scary an attack could be. Luckily enough, her co-star for upcoming movie Eloquence, **Ehran Gold** , 39, was by her side. French smiled as she explained the story to People, “We had been out a nightclub together, and decided to go back to his house for coffee. Unfortunately, his neighbor’s are big smokers, which is a huge trigger for my asthma. Then, I was surprised by a photographer and fell into a bush. Those two things caused me to have a really serious asthma attack. It was so scary, I felt like I couldn’t breathe and the coughing wouldn’t stop,” she reveals. _

_French continued to gush about her co-star, who was present at the interview. “Ehran was my hero that night, truly. He called the paramedics as soon as he realized something was wrong, and I’m so thankful he acted the way he did. I’ve talked to all my doctors and it’s incredibly important to me that I stay in the best shape.” Gold shrugged off French’s statement that he was a hero, but it seems like he truly was the savior of the night...”_

           

The rest of the article gave statistics on asthma in adults and children, and quoted a few other celebrities with the same problem, giving ways to avoid attacks like Belle’s. Ehran re-read the sentence where she called him a hero, feeling incredibly unworthy of the title. Belle was too kind, and now it seemed like she thought they were friends. He didn’t know what had compelled him to buy chicken noodle soup and bring it to her, but it wasn’t normal for him. It was _weakness_. He was almost dreading returning to work in the next few days, dreading what had changed in their real life relationship. He knew he’d have to push his feelings aside and let his character do the talking.

            He couldn’t fall for her, and he couldn’t let her fall for him. None of his relationships ever worked out, and he couldn’t let Belle be hurt by him. Everyone who loved him ended up hurt in some way. He’d already physically hurt her, if only incidentally, and there was no need to put her through the emotional turmoil he carried.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle and Ehran play the “but do you really like me?” game on set. Lots of feelings are discussed. Ehran gets a surprising phone call.

It was funny how quickly their dynamic changed. Belle had once been guarded when it came to Ehran, but she was beginning to consider him one of her closest friends. They were nearly inseparable on-set, and when they were still setting the scene, they were often seen together with Belle laying on the couch, her legs over his lap as they waited on one of the couches in their dressing rooms. Belle had cleansed her phone of past relationships, ready to start a new one. Ehran, however, shied away from returning to her place when late-night shooting ended, insisting he was too tired or too busy.

She would convince him soon enough. Belle was ready to put a label on their relationship, but Ehran kept holding back, changing the subject. The press had long been speculating that they were an item, and Mary Margaret and Regina had jointly decided to stop responding to the rumors. Ehran had kept mum when she pointed that out to him, simply shrugging and returning to re-reading his script.

Their scenes together were remarkable. Archie raved continuously about how they had the most chemistry he’d ever seen with two actors. When they were in character, they were spot-on with the book’s description of the doomed romance. Filming would be over a in a few weeks, and Belle was on-set preparing for a scene where Miranda (Belle’s character) found out her elderly neighbor had been murdered. She didn’t know that Richard (Ehran’s character), had been the one to murder her as a ploy to get Miranda to move in with him. Belle was on pins-and-needles to see how Ehran would portray the guilt in Richard’s eyes as Miranda cried on his shoulder.

“What do you think about for the crying scenes?” Ariel asked, snapping Belle out of the fog she was in. Ehran hadn’t arrived to set yet, and he hadn’t texted her the previous night or that morning. It was unusual. It wasn’t that they were always in contact - but recently, they’d always been in contact.

“Oh, I don’t know. Sad things,” Belle said with a shrug, taking a sip of her coffee. “Like being up this early. It’s criminal.”

“I heard Ashley Minx thinks about dead puppies,” the hairstylist said, fixing Belle’s hair a touch.

Belle’s eyes widened, “I’m not that criminal!”

She paused for a moment, then admitted softly, “I think about my dad dying.”

Ariel made a tutting noise, then rubbed Belle’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Belle. That had to be terrible.”

Belle nodded, clicking the home button on her phone again. Still no contact from Ehran. He was probably fine. He probably hadn’t died in a car accident or something.

“Hey, there’s Ehran!” Ariel said, and Belle swiveled in her chair, a smile on her face. 

It was Ehran. And a woman. They weren’t holding hands, but she certainly wasn’t keeping her distance as they made their way towards Belle. She stood from her makeup stool, confirming with Ariel that she was done for the day, and meeting Ehran and the woman in the middle.

“Hey,” Ehran said coolly, his voice different from the one she was used to.

“Hey,” Belle said, but there was a question in her tone. She shifted her gaze from him to her, and the woman returned Belle’s curious stare.

“I’m Jasmine Agra,” she said, extending a hand. Jasmine was considerably taller than Belle, thin and curvy with wavy, dark hair. Her deep purple romper brought out her tanned skin, and her eye’s were lined with kohl eyeliner, a look Belle had never figured out how to master. The name was familiar, but Belle had never met her.

“Belle French,” she returned, shaking the woman’s hand. 

“Are you in the movie?” Jasmine asked slowly, speaking as if she were talking to a child.

Belle frowned. “I’m the main character.”

Jasmine shook her head, “Ehran said he was the main character. This whole movie sounds so confusing.”

Tilting her head, Belle replied, “Did you read the book, Jasmine?”

Jasmine shook her head, “I don’t read.”

“That explains some things,” Belle said, “It’s a phenomenal book. I play Miranda, who's a graduate student, and she-”

“I’m tired, baby,” Jasmine suddenly said, using a sickly sweet voice that made Belle want to throw up. Belle had a sinking feeling in her stomach as she watched Jasmine rest her head on Ehran’s shoulder. Had she been reading his signs wrong? Was Ehran not interested in her?

Ehran looked away from Belle for the first time, down at the woman with her body draped onto his. “Oh,” he said, “there’s a break room over here…” he led her away, and he turned to look back at Belle. She hoped he would answer the questions that must be written on her face.

Belle stayed rooted in her spot, and Ehran returned a few moments later.

“So that’s your -”

“She’s a Victoria’s Secret model,” he said, before she could say “girlfriend”.

“Did she spend the night at your place last night?” Belle asked, shifting her weight uncomfortably.

He didn’t answer immediately, and that was an answer enough. Belle took a step back, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable,” she spat, and he tried to reach for her, but she was gone before he could explain any further. 

-

Ehran reflected on his actions while he had to film with Belle crying on his shoulder. It was ironic to be comforting her like this for his role, when he should be comforting her in real life. This had to have been his stupidest idea yet - to bring in another woman.

He knew Belle liked him - maybe loved him at this point. It was so obvious from the way she acted. Ehran hadn’t realized he’d returned the feeling until a week ago, and it was 1am, and she was asking if she would come back to her place, and the look on her face was so innocent and sweet, and he was none of those things. He didn’t deserve someone like Belle, someone so beautiful inside and out. She was embittered by the world, wasn’t torn down by reputations and lies. They didn’t immediately click, but they were falling into place together and he was scared of it. He knew she would assume he was dating Jasmine, but he didn’t know he would feel like the worst human in the world. It didn’t make himself feel better to distance Belle from him.

The press assumed they were dating. Hell, Regina assumed they were dating. The thing was, though, he’d never asked her on a date. They just seemed to happen, after long days of shooting, or on off days when they went out with groups. It always ended up just being the two of them. They were like magnets, seeking each other out. He felt magnetized to her, always wanting to be at her side. It terrified him.

Jasmine Agra was sexy, and she knew how to use her body to her advantage. He’d met her at a bar the previous night, and she had whispered something stupid in his ear. He’d laughed, and she’d laughed, and he bought her another drink. She was drunk out of her mind by the end of the night, and he drove her back to her place to avoid her driving herself anywhere. Just like Belle had done for him, he realized. Jasmine had passed out before anything happened, and when he’d woken up, she had clung to him, as if something had happened.. That’s what happened for trying to be a good Samaritan, the only woman he really cared about probably hated him.

He’d been in love once before - if this thing with Belle was love. Ehran had grown reluctant to tie himself down into a committed relationship. Hollywood liked a man who could settle down, but a playboy was adored. Milah Right had rightly rocked his world, right up until she’d cheated on him. She’d been pregnant with his child when they’d gotten married at a 24 hour casino, and about two months after their son’s birth, she revealed she was in love with another man. Ehran had been devastated, but somehow unsurprised. Nothing really ever worked out for him. Thus began a life filled with fighting and papers, custody and lawyers. The only thing he wanted to take from the relationship was his son, but because of Milah, he never really got to know him. 

Ehran didn’t take her seriously when she threatened to take away visitation a few years later. He’d been in the news for supposedly being pulled over on suspicion of having possession of marijuana - keywords being supposedly and suspicion. He hadn’t, but Regina didn’t pull the story from the news. It pulled in viewers for the movie had been doing. Milah flipped out, moving their son and her new husband to London. Ehran stayed in Los Angeles, and though he paid the lawyers great sums, Milah paid more. 

He missed his son every single moment. He hated that he wasn’t a prominent figure in his son’s life, cursing himself for letting greed overtake him and his management’s focus. Family should’ve been his focus, as broken as it was.

When Archie finally called “cut!”, Ehran felt like he was escaping from drowning. When he was in character, it was normally an escape from his thoughts. Today, he had managed to go through his lines and actions, and also go down the rabbit-hole of his mind. Belle quickly shifted off of him, an assistant offering her tissues.

She accepted, rising from the chair they were on and beginning to walk away.

“Belle-” he said, and she turned back, but didn’t say anything.

“Belle,” he repeated, reaching for her hand. She didn’t resist his touch, and he pulled her back towards the couch. She reluctantly sat down, glancing at him but staring at the wall they were facing.

“I did not sleep with Jasmine,” he said firmly.

Belle rolled her eyes. “She showed up with you, didn’t she?”

“Look, Belle, I was out at a bar last night, she was drunk, I took her to my house so she wouldn’t have to drive herself,” Ehran explained, “She attached herself to me this morning, and I didn’t know what to do so I brought her here.”

“So you didn’t sleep with her?” Belle asked, doubt clear in her voice.

“No!” he said, “I wouldn’t take advantage of someone who was as drunk as she was.”

Belle nodded, sighing. She buried her hands in her face, her hair covering her expression. “I’m sorry for overreacting,” she mumbled. “I feel so stupid.”

“No, sweetheart,” Ehran said, realizing he had used a term of endearment. Belle was watching him now, her eyes wide. It was too late to pretend it didn’t happen, so he continued. “I should be sorry. I should’ve been honest with you immediately.”

Belle nodded, then reached over to hug him. When the broke apart, she softly said, “You know what the problem is, though?”

He shook his head, and she looked around at the set. Everyone was at least pretending to ignore them. “Ehran, I… I really like you,” Belle said quietly, “and I don’t know if you feel the same way.”

When Ehran responded by being speechless, Belle shook her head. “I get it, Ehran, I get that I’m not enough for you,” she whispered, looking like she was going to start crying again.

His face was distorted, grief etched onto it. “Belle, why would you think that? You’re too much for me,” he said, trying to explain how he felt, but words seemed to escape him during important moments. “I don’t deserve you.”

He trailed off, and Belle gave him a sad smile. “Don’t you see? I want you. I just want you. I’m not perfect either, nobody is. We all have baggage. That doesn’t mean we all don’t deserve love.”

Silence hung in the air for a moment, and Belle was biting her lip, waiting on his response. “And I like you, too,” he said, his words cutting the quietness.

Belle smiled, lifting her hand to cup his face. “Then we’re agreed,” she whispered, and she leaned in, as if to kiss him. Ehran turned his face, and she grazed her lips against his cheek. When she pulled back, she was puzzled.

“I don’t understand -”

“Belle, you really, really don’t want to date me,” Ehran said firmly, a distinct tone of despair in his voice. “I live with so much regret, this “bad boy” reputation,” he said, putting air quotes around the words. “I seem to mess up everything I touch, and I don’t want to hurt you the way I’ve hurt passed girlfriends,” he said, “I’m... “

“Ehran,” Belle said, “I. Don’t. Care. I think we can do this,” she said, a passionate note in her voice.

They were staring at each other with such an intensity, and Ehran didn’t want to blink. He could tell she wasn’t lying, could tell she was firm in her decision to want him. He shifted, running his hands through his hair. “Belle… If you’re willing to be patient with me, we can try this. For real.”

Belle looked like she might burst into tears, but happy ones. She hugged him again, and an set assistant broke them apart. “I’m sorry to intrude, but, Ms. French, you’ve got a Mrs. Nolan for you,” he said, offering Belle her cell phone. Before Belle accepted the call, she turned to Ehran. 

“Tonight. My place. 7pm. We’re going to go out, for real,” Belle said, taking his hand and squeezing it gently before she began to talk to Mary Margaret about some kind of advertising deal. She waved her farewell to him, mouthing “7’o’clock”. 

Ehran changed back into his street clothes, returning Richard’s clothing to wardrobe. Before he left, he checked his phone. Thirteen voice mails from Regina and sixteen text messages. Before he read or listened to them, he called Regina back.

“Ehran. Thank God you finally picked up. It’s Bae.”

He felt his stomach drop to the floor. Had something happened to his son?

Regina took a deep breath. “Milah and Bae are in Los Angeles for a night. Her band is having some reunion benefit. She’s offering you free access to him tonight.”

“Really?” Ehran asked, his voice breaking. He hadn’t had a night to himself with his son in his recent memory. He wondered how big his son was now, if he had learned to ride a bike like they’d discussed last time they’d seen each other.

“Yes, really. Get your ass to the address I texted you. Daniel should be at the set with the car for you. No funny business. Milah’s in a good mood, but not good enough to let you get away with anything.”

“I would dream of trying anything. Thank you, Regina. ” Ehran said, half-running to the car Regina had waiting for him.

He almost ended the call, but Regina began to speak again. “Gold?” Regina said softly. “Good luck. I know how much you need this.”


End file.
